


Tornado Alarm

by Jude_ABG



Series: Superbat Brainstorm [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Early Powers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Learning how to control himself, Minor minor minor Superbat (because I'm trash), Natural Disasters, Parental Protection, Relationship Study, Struggles with Powers, The Kents are awesome, Tornado in Smallville, Young Clark needs a break, Young clark, sweet cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 06:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18867301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude_ABG/pseuds/Jude_ABG
Summary: 10 year old Clark Kent doesn't know how, but he can do things no one else can.It quickly became too much, so he desperately needs to control it.It doesn't help him (or anyone, for that matter) to know that there's a tornado near Smallville,but MAYBE that's an opportunity.





	1. Overwhelmed

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language. I wrote this as a way of studying it - I swear I'm smarter in Brazilian Portuguese.  
> First time writing a story (in any language). Constructive critics are welcome!  
> Wrote this instead of sleeping. Brain was mush all the time - Don't say I didn't warn ya!  
> I'm a big city girl that never saw a tornado. It's all Google knowledge - be free to retaliate HAHA

Clark sat down next to Gertie and sighed. The poor cow looked at the boy and blinked a couple of times. He smiled tiredly.  
"Just taking a break, old girl. Don't ya worry" Kent said, tapping the animal on the side.

The sun was already setting. The 10 year old had spent his whole day doing almost every chore on the farm. From the ones that required brute force to the ones that needed light fingers. Even tasks that weren't really necessary at the moment. Most of them, Clark had butchered through. He tried doing all the activities without his powers, but... it was hard.

The boy sighed sadly again. He would spend his whole tomorrow working too, and the day after that, and the day after that. It was fine. He would keep doing it for the time necessary to learn how to control his abilities. They were getting stronger every day. He had to be able to do things without letting anyone know about his powers or, on worst case scenario, without hurting anyone. Besides, Pa Kent was getting a very deserved vacation from farming.

Ma Kent's heart broke to see Clark like that. She felt guilty about putting the boy to work, but he couldn't go back to school yet. He needed to practice. He could accidentally break a door in two with his hands, shoot lasers with his eyes or start levitating in the middle of the class. Martha knew she couldn't keep her son hidden in the farm through all of his puberty years, but the boy needed a little break from the world. Ma dreaded the idea of losing him. Prejudice, blind hate, self loathing, or (in some ways, worse) the government. The woman wanted her son to hide from the monsters of life while he could.

The problem was: every day Clark felt himself more and more overwhelmed. He had so much energy. The boy felt waves of power prickling his skin every time he stood under the Kansas sun. Just pure strength. That's why it was so hard for Kent to, for example, pick up eggs from the coop. He wanted to run faster than a bullet, lift a mountain, freeze a lake. His body wanted... so much. His muscles weren't agreeing with the fragility of the eggs between his fingers. Early that morning, he had managed to save only a single egg out of 5.

No flying in the house. No super speeding his chores. No peeking inside the birthday gifts. No lifting, no hearing, no seeing, no freezing, no burning. No superpowers in general.

The 10 year old leaned against his cow. Gertie huffed, but stood still. He didn't want to disappoint Ma and Pa, but things weren't exactly easy for him.

***

Pa Kent grabbed another firefly with his hands. He carefully put the insect in a glass jar with two other ones.

The nights in Smallville were blessed. Near the crops, that had no lamps around, the darkness was almost absolute. Complete blindness. The deep blue sky covered with shiny stars and a gorgeous moon was the only light source. He was taking a walk with a lantern, but the child inside the man made him take a detour only to look at the fireflies near the stream. Pancake, the old dog, walked in circles around the farmer.

Clark will like their light, Jonathan thought while walking home, jar on his hand. For someone that was in the darkness, the Kent house looked like a shiny island in the middle of a black ocean. It was beautiful. After having the day to rest, the farmer appreciated things with much more attention.

Pa Kent opened the kitchen door. Pancake ran inside clumsily. However, the man stopped in surprise. Clark was on the kitchen table, face red and eyes puffy from crying. Lips red from being bitten. He was eating an omelet with a bent fork. It looked weird. Pieces of eggshell had been cooked with the rest and vegetables looked almost mangled. Jonathan understood that Clark was the one that tried to cook it, but the super strength still was a big issue for the kid.

"What's wrong, son?" The man sat down next to Clark, putting his hand on the boy's back.  
"I... I just... I didn't..." The boy whimpered, crying. Pa waited patiently while he controlled himself.

"I went to Mr Palmer's market today" he tried again. "We were out of salt, so I thought I could give it a try..."  
"What happened, Clark?"  
"Everything was fine. I ran into Pete in there. We started talking, he asked me about school and we were laughing, but then... I just... Everything got so confusing all of a sudden. I couldn't see his face anymore. I was seeing through his skull, into his brain and..." Clark's voice cracked and he started crying again. "Everything was so loud. His voice made my head hurt and... I didn't faint, but I don't remember the screaming either"

Jonathan pulled Clark against his chest, feeling the 10 year old tremble. For the last week, his son had woken up before the sun and done everything he could in the farm. At first the tasks were a complete mess, but by the end of the 5fth day, it was clear he was starting to get a hold of his powers. There were no more laser marks on the barn, no more frozen trees. However, some abilities were going to be a bitch to control.  
"I'm sorry, son" he heard himself say.  
"I don't understand why I'm like this, Pa" the boy whispered.

The farmer looked up and saw his wife on the door. She was leaned against the wood, worried expression on her face. Their eyes met and she shook her head slowly before walking away.

"Hey, Clark" the man whispered. The kid looked up, bright blue eyes shining with tears. "Look what I found ya"  
Even if Jonathan couldn't see the shine of the fireflies on that light, Clark could. The man thought maybe that could cheer the boy up. The kid grabbed the jar, pressing his face against the glass.  
"Oh, wow" he sighed. Pa Kent wondered what beautiful light his alien son could see. The man continued hugging him, hoping his love could contaminate the boy. The kid was too good for the world.

***

The horses sensed it first. When they started to get a little restless on a sunny day, Clark though it was a little weird. Rebel, the biggest one, had managed to break part of the fence. They were lucky he didn't leave his paddock. The day after that, the boy felt something too. A tingling on his knuckles and a buzz in his ears, like something was slowly preparing to show up.

In the middle of the night, the skies were cloudy, dark and stormy. Ma Kent stood on the porch holding a radio, her loose hair flew around on the strong wind. Pancake laid sadly next to her. The old dog hated using a collar, but Pa Kent thought it was necessary. 

Clark and Jonathan didn't have many animals since their farm was focused on agriculture, but the ones they had were name tagged and placed safely on the barn. The wood and cement structure was very old, but it would have to be enough to hold the storm Pa thought was coming. Clark didn't really understand what was happening, but helped anyway. He could faintly hear the voice on his mother's radio, but couldn't make up the words. The boy kissed Gertie and left the barn.

By the time both of them reached Martha, strong winds and heavy rain were already an issue.  
"The radio just warned the people about the tornado" she said, the little device against her ear. "They don't want us inside our houses. We need to go to the shelter while we can"  
Just as she finished talking, a siren started resonating in the distance. Jonathan put his hands over Clark's ears, who flinched noticeably at the piercing noise. A couple of seconds later, Martha was putting a blue ear muffler on her son. The woman had prepared. For everything! A bag next to the door was proof of it.

"C'mon, Pancake. Let's go to the cellar" Jonathan said to the old golden retriever.  
"Wait! No. We can't leave Pancake here" said Clark. He wanted to grab his father's arm, but was scared he would do something wrong.  
"I know, Clark. I want him to come with us too, but the shelter is not Pet friendly and we can't disrespect the rules" Said Ma, brushing his curls back with her hand. The boy let out a small whimper, but couldn't do anything but agree.

***

Smallville High wasn't a great school. For the number of teenagers that lived on the town, it was more than enough. It was probably the most stable building in the whole rural city, after the old tiny Town Hall. Clark could only imagine. On normal days, the hallways would be full of teenagers grabbing their books on metal lockers. At that hour of the night, everything looked huge to him. Big classroom doors on the right side of the corridor, immense windows (secured with tape) on the left, high stone ceilings. That's the school he was going to attend in a few years.

Many families had already walked inside, more still arriving. Following the school director's orders, they were guided to the underground galleries. The rain was starting to get worse. Umbrellas were useless. Most people received a small towel after arriving, since they were dripping on the floors.

"Don't worry. The tornado is going to go away from Smallville" "I hope the damage is minimal" "Do you think our crops will be okay?" "Shh, why are you crying, honey?"  
Sometimes Clark hated having super hearing.

Downstairs the beautiful architecture gave place to thick brick walls, lead panes and cement columns. It had weak yellow lamps all over, like a fancy restaurant. The cellar from Clark's house was humid and dark. Not this one though. This one was perfect for a shelter, warm and big. The boy started feeling guilty thinking about it. Pancake, Gertie, Rebel, the other animals. He missed them already.

Ma and Pa Kent found a place to sit down and immediately started talking to the people around. Rosana Cohen, the florist, could talk all day if you let her. The woman was having a great time scaring the little children with stories about tornadoes.

"Ma" Clark called.  
"Yes, honey?"  
"I think... I think I'm gonna go hang out with Pete Ross. He wanted to... tell me about some things"  
Martha furrowed her brow. She got very close to the boy, who swallowed audibly.  
"I don't think it's a good idea right now, Clark"  
"It's fine, Ma. I saw where his family is. I didn't bring any books, I'll be bored just sitting here"  
The woman looked her son up and down and sighed.  
"Alright, but...Clark..." She got very close to him and whispered "There's a storage room near that wall over there. It's hidden and empty. If ya feel like you're going to have a crisis with the powers, come to me, Pa or just hide in there, okay? Ya'll feel safe there."  
"Okay, Ma. I ain't gonna have a crisis"  
Martha nodded and went back to her conversation with the neighbor.

Clark smiled and got up. It really wasn't the time, but he felt good with what Martha had just said.  
If asked, the boy would never admit, but with his problems growing bigger those last weeks, he was afraid Martha and Jonathan wouldn't love him anymore. He knew he was adopted. It was irrational, but the fear of being... sent back made him anxious. However, knowing that his mother bothered preparing a contingency plan for his safety when there were worst things to worry about... Clark Kent felt loved.

It didn't help his conscience though, since he had just lied to her.

*


	2. Uneasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Clark is able to support the people (or the beings) he loves, he will.

There were so many people in the shelter, just seeking refuge or working as volunteers, that no one noticed the 10 year old sneaking up the stairs. He wasn't a small kid or anything, but he knew how to avoid attention when he wanted to. On the ground floor the wind was absurd. The windows shook so much Clark was amazed only the tape was holding them together. If it got worse, the glass would definitely shatter. Outside, branches of a tree kept falling with the aggressive rain. The lights were already off up there.

"Orlando, the storm is getting worse. No one's gonna arrive now. We better head downstairs"  
A voice at the end of the hallway made Clark startle. Crap, he didn't think anyone would be there. They would want to bring him back downstairs with them. He looked around, searching for a place to hide, but there was none. Not even an open locker. Who knew? After being squeezed into one all those years by middle school assholes, he would do that willingly if he found one. The door to the chemistry lab was a hope that immediately vanished when he learned it was locked. The voices were coming closer.  
Alright. The boy had to make a decision now.

"Ya know what's funny, Eve? Through all these years as headmaster, I forgot there was a chance our school would be used as a shelter" Said Orlando, walking and analyzing the shaking windows.  
"So far, so good. However I must admit I'm not worried about the school, but the people that are still out there" Supervisor Eve said, sadly.  
Orlando stopped walking. He turned towards the woman and lifted his hand to caress her cheek.  
"The people of Smallville are modest, but strong. You'll see"  
The two stood there, staring at each other. At that moment, they seemed to have completely forgotten about the shelter.  
A soft bang echoed through the corridor.

"What was that?" Eve whispered.

The woman looked around. Orlando touched the window carefully, thinking the noise came from it. After a while the woman started approaching the laboratory door. She looked through the small window, searching in the dark. Everything looked very still, but she could swear the noise came from a close location. She lifted her hand and placed it on the handle.

Twisting it, though, showed the woman that the room was still locked.

She stepped away from the door, confused. Orlando waited until she turned to him. Smiling, they started walking again towards the stairs.

Clark let out his breath loudly. The boy had found out a long time ago that he didn't need oxygen (just one more thing that made him so different), but holding air in his lungs always made him concentrate. He opened his eyes and looked down. Far away from his feet, the hallway the Headmaster and the Supervisor had just passed was empty. Maybe floating too high and banging his head on the ceiling was a little miscalculation, but... Hey! He managed to control the flight! It was the first time Clark did it on command. That was progress! The boy chuckled loudly and smiled to himself. Only to be humbled, gravity suddenly started to increase. "Whoa" he gasped, when the floor got very close very quick.

Eve was on the last steps of the cellar stairs when she heard a loud thump. She looked up, startled. There was a noise again! After a few seconds of silence though, she shrugged and continued what she was doing.

Clark whined from where he laid on the floor. The fall didn't hurt him at all, since the boy had a surprisingly thick skull, but a good scare always worked. For a few seconds the kid wondered if what he planned was a good idea. He could go back downstairs and forget about it. No harm, no foul, but…

Gertie, Pancake, Rebel… all the other animals he couldn’t forget about in that storm. Clark knew the tornado was going to reach the Kent’s farm in no time and he couldn’t be safe and do nothing. Perhaps Martha and Jonathan, who had lived through many hard times (and a few tornadoes), were prepared. However, not Clark. For the boy, who was shy, calm and nothing like his classmates, those animals were almost his best friends.

Kent punched the school window and felt absolutely awful about it (he was too nice for vandalism). The glass fell heavily on the ground, making him cringe with the noise. He hoped nobody would come check. Anyway, it would be the glass or the front door, but he had to open a way go outside. Thank God for his invulnerable skin though.

The boy looked back one last time and jumped through the huge window. He fell on a puddle and stood up clumsily. Maybe he wasn’t the most stable kid in Smallville, but it didn’t matter. He had to try something:

There was this morning. Clark woke up at sunrise, dressed up, prepared for his chores… then he stopped. He paid attention, but… there was nothing. No sounds at all. Not wind in the crops, no chickens, no cooking. The boy ran downstairs scared and found everything still. It was like the world was almost frozen in place. Almost. In fact, paying attention to it, Clark could see things moving really really slowly. It didn’t feel good at first. However, after going outside the boy realized it wasn’t so bad. He could see things he would never be able to. Even the wind in his face felt smooth and refreshing when it glided through his cheeks. The 10 year old sat on the porch watching the sun rise unhurriedly, purple, orange, yellow. At that pace, it took 30 minutes for the morning to fully arrive. At the end of it, just like clockwork, everything went back to normal. Clark heard his mother picking up eggs, whilst Pancake ran around outside the coop. The water continued to flow at normal speed, filling up a bucket. He blinked and looked around, dumbfounded. The boy didn’t know what had happened, but it had been absolutely beautiful.

Maybe he could do it again.

Clark looked up and saw the rain falling on the High School walls. A lightning hit a metal lamp on top of the building, letting sparks fall, lighting up the dark night. The kid felt a pang of anxiety, but swallowed it. Everything was still fine. Relatively. He breathed deeply, held his breath and focused on the sound of metal buzzing with electricity above his head. It was better to focus on one sound. Kent covered his eyes. “Slow down, slow down, slow down” he whispered, almost like a mantra. Flying hadn’t been as hard as he thought it would be. Maybe this wouldn't too… 

After a few seconds, though, the buzz nearly stopped. The boy tensed up and removed his hands from his face in a quick jerk. Raindrops were stuck mid air, lazily falling to the ground. The intense wind from before was nothing but a cold huff on his hair. The boy walked calmly towards a tree, seeing the leaves ripple and shake in slow motion. In the clouds, a lightning formed slowly like a bright nerve being provoked. The sound of the thunder made Clark's head hurt like hell from beginning to the prolonged end.

Clark did that. He forced himself to do that. In a way, it was great, but that didn't stop the kid from wondering why he was able to do weird things while no one else could. Clark Kent wasn’t stupid. He knew his parents knew more than they told him, but… how much more? There were things that children weren’t supposed to know. Was that one of them? Maybe that was a puberty thing everyone went through, who knows? Adults avoided talking about so much.

The 10 year old hesitated a little. He pursed his lips, looked back one last time. After storing all his insecurities away… he started running away from the old brick building.

***

The Kent farm wasn’t amazing. It had belonged to generations of Jonathan’s family and he was taught how to take care of it from an young age. Clark was too, but just so he knew how. The boy saw, all his life, his father repairing things all around the property. The old barn was so old it still had wooden boards with words carved by Jonathan’s older brothers. According to the man, Martha had smacked him across the head with a newspaper when she saw the “Jonathan + Melody 4 ever” that had been written when he was 7 year old. “4 ever my ass” the woman muttered, making him smile. Even if Clark had missed all that history, he still had a fondness for that barn, just like any part of the Kent’s land. That’s why seeing the boards shaking with the intense wind made him uneasy.

Clark grabbed Pancake tighter. The dog was so restless the kid was afraid he would hurt himself. The other animals, however, were quiet. It didn’t make any sense. Clark could feel the ground shaking, the winds getting stronger and stronger, the absurd sound getting closer… but the animals were quiet. Rebel, his father’s big black horse, had been in panic before, but now he looked peaceful in a way the stallion never had. The boy locked the golden retriever in a horse stall, making sure to give him blankets and pillows for comfort. It probably was better than being alone in the cold house cellar. He walked to the window.

The 10 year old almost cried when he saw the tornado down the hill, right over the crops. For someone who had extremely sharp senses, being near a tornado hurt, but what pained Clark more was seeing so much work and dedication being destroyed. He didn't let his tears fall, though. He could remember Pa talking about the first time a tornado hit the Kent Farm. The boy remembered the scene clearly. Clark was only a 8 year old being tucked into bed. His wide blue eyes stared up at Jonathan, who was leaned on the bed.

He told his son in a quiet voice about the day he lost his older brother, who was one of a few who disappeared during that storm. Nobody knew where Matthew Kent was when the storm came and nobody saw him again. That year the plantation (it used to be only cotton at the time) was absolutely devastated. Jessica, Clark's grandma, always stood strong for her family. Jonathan remember how she didn't allow herself the time to mourn her son. Not at first, at least. She spent a long time making sure that tornado wouldn't take away everything they had - figuratively. They had to rebuild their home. A pile of debts started stocking up and the bank started to send letters. All the family struggled for weeks. Nobody knew how they could do it without Matthew, but they did. The Kents worked their ass off and managed to make enough money to pay debts, buy things for the next crop and sustain themselves for a while. They went through some hard times, but who doesn't?

One morning Jonathan walked outside and saw Jessica under their oak tree. She gave him a bittersweet smile that crinkled her tearful eyes. Inside a hole on the ground was a little wood box. The boy watched as Matthew's baby teeth, his old harmonica and school notebook were buried there. His mother cried silently, but the smile on her face never vanished.

Jonathan gave Clark a sad smile too. The man explained to his son that things were just like that. That you could lose the most important things in your life in the blink of an eye. However, after the tornado his family only survived because they stayed together, supported each other, and that's what mattered to Jonathan. Even having to build things over, they stood together and they would preserve and share the memory of Matthew, together as well. They could make right by him.

After a while, the tornado started going away. It wouldn't hit the house, the barn or the silo. The Kents would be fine. A lighting hit a fence at the edge of the field, but only there. However, heavy damage to the plantation could be seen, but the boy sighed satisfied, because it could've been a lot worse. In any case, he had his Ma and Pa. "That's what matters".

Clark was only 10, but he had gifts. Not only the many abilities he had. The boy had patience, kindness, empathy, will to do good. Martha and Jonathan Kent weren't worried. They knew whatever they could go through, Clark would be fine afterwards. He had happiness in its purest form inside of him.

The storm was going east, towards another private land. Kent could still feel the tornado on the back of his head and on the tip of his fingers, but the barn itself was incredibly quiet. Even Pancake was staring at him through a hole on the fence. The dog turned around and laid quietly on a pile of blankets. "Good boy" Clark muttered. Even though the torrential rain wouldn't stop so soon, the animals were safe. 

***

The low roar of voices that existed at first was much quieter now. It was very late. Most people decided to wait the end of the storm sleeping. Snores could be heard. Some children played between the columns of the shelter. A few groups of teenagers talked in whispers and laughed on a corner. Mainly it were the adults that looked worried. Thunders resonated through the cellar scaring little babies. Martha’s gaze travelled across the space. She wanted to pretend she was cool, but the motherly anxiety never left her nowadays. The woman snuggled closer to Jonathan and closed her eyes, trying to nap too, but after a few minutes she was looking around again.

“It’s good to know Clark is having fun, isn’t it?” Said Jonathan calmly while reading his book. He could sense his wife apprehension. She made a ‘tt’ sound.  
“Do you think he’s fine? Should we find him?”  
“Why do you think we should?” He whispered, turning to look at her face.  
“...I don’t know. It’s been half an hour” She blinked up at him.  
“The tornado will die soon and the storm will pass. After that the boy will want to hide himself in that farm again. While he’s feeling good, let him enjoy his time with his friend”  
“I know. You’re right. I just... have a weird feeling” She leaned her head in his shoulder again. The man smiled and kissed her forehead.  
“You’re a good mother, Martha” He whispered smirking.  
The woman didn’t move, but Jonathan didn’t need to look far to know where Clark had learned to blush so profusely.

After a while Martha was so relaxed she sighed and closed her eyes softly.

*


	3. Deus Ex Machina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was about time Clark truly believed in himself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went a little crazy on this chapter. Be patient with me HAHA

Oak, the little lamb, was starting to get dizzy from seeing Clark pacing around. He didn’t want to leave his animals, but the fear of getting in trouble and causing a mess was too much. He sucked at going behind his parents’ back.

Maybe if he would just… you know… check…  
Kent knew he couldn’t, but… couldn’t he?

When the boy sat on the hay, Oak turned it’s little head. “Shh, be quiet” he said out loud.  
Rebel neighed one time as a protest. The boy pursed his lips annoyed, then inhaled deeply and crossed his legs. Kent closed his eyes and concentrated. Really concentrated. 

So he listened. He went past every noise that polluted his head. The storm, heartbeats in the middle of the way, miles of plantation moving. It was very weird. He had spent so long trying to hear less. Now all he wanted to do was reach further. Hear more. It was very hard identifying something in a sea of aggressive sounds. Inevitably, Clark felt himself getting sick. Doing what he was doing was really overwhelming, and the dizziness didn't make it easier. Maybe that was a bad idea, after all.

The boy stood up from the floor. Upright, eyes still closed, he felt the need to fidget so he wouldn't be so tense. The animals looked confused at the boy, who moved like an insane person.

And... there it was.  
The sound of rain hitting brick. The tiny tinkle of broken glass. The underground voice of a mother singing to a baby. The slightly dirty blanket that was hanged, ready to be given to someone in the shelter. The floorboard creaking all by itself inside a classroom. It was funny how little things could be so recognizable from just one visit.

When Clark's super hearing started, he sometimes fainted. For a child, being able to hear words being whispered in the distance as if they were being shouted in his ears... it was a wonder he didn't go crazy. And it was only because of Martha. Ma Kent. His mother always knew what to do to calm him down. That's why her heartbeat was such a lighthouse in the storm. That's the sound he searched for peace. Focusing on a single point amidst a cacophony was hard, but a relief when achieved.

Clark narrowed his range, searching for that single point. It didn't take long for him to hear the beat, right next to another familiar one. She was sleeping. Ma Kent’s breathing was slow and peaceful, and she whispered nonsense words. Her son knew the sound very well. The noise of a page being turned in a book and a man clearing his throat. Pa also wasn’t bothered.

Everything was fine, neither had noticed his absence. Maybe he could stay there a little more and then super speed (as he chose to call it) back before they realised something. It would take a while though. Martha was a very deep sleeper. A huge weight was lifted off the 10 year old's shoulder. He didn't know where that anxiety came from, but it was great getting rid of it.

Alright. Just as carefully as he reached the High School, he had to pull back. Without any hurry. Slow enough not lose control again. However, the noise was getting louder and louder the more he concentrated. It didn't make sense. Once again, the boy felt the need to fidget to avoid feeling overwhelmed. He lifted his hands and held his head, trying to will his migraine away. 

Then, suddenly... silence.  
Only a small buzz on the back of his head and that's it. The boy opened his blue eyes. He paid attention to that abrupt quietness. That was weird… Pulling his focus closer to himself, though, the noise came crashing back, sending him to the ground in pain. His hands covered his ears, as if that could help. Then, he realized what that was: the tornado. He was listening to the tornado. All that fast moving air, loud and destructive, only having peace in the center of it. It was so... majestic and terrifying.

"Alexander!" A scream.  
Clark opened his eyes, startled. He looked at the dark barn he was in, but his ears still listened to the surroundings of the tornado. He widened the range, wanting to hear more.  
"Alexander, come back here!" The female voice shouted again.  
"No! My research will be destroyed!" A boy. Maybe Kent's age.  
Steps, shoes on wet grass, then hands holding wood planks, a creaking structure. Leaves on a tree rustled, but not because of rain. Seconds of just nature sounds. Clark Kent, from the high school building, stood tense in suspense. Then, the sound a zipper being opened and paper. Notebooks being stuffed into a backpack, he realized. It was hard to know what was really happening without looking. Then... an explosion.

It was so loud, Clark felt like his head had just split in two. He stumbled blindly and slammed against a wall. He stood still, eyes closed and breathing loudly, then he looked up on a daze. A loud ringing sound made the boy deaf. The sound of the rain, the wind, the thunders: everything was muffled by a migraining buzz. He could only hear his own nervous breaths. Clark never had realized how claustrophobic hearing less was.

After a few seconds of despair, every noise started to return. "NO!" A desperate scream.  
Oh, no. Something had happened. Something bad. What was that explosion? Before Clark realized, he was already running outside, trying to hear more. He fell hard and stood up clumsily. He had to do something, he had to do something, he had to do something. The boy stood like a statue on the strong rain, deciding on what.

Okay. Alright. Now was a chance to test how far he could go. Better late than never.  
Clark closed his eyes again, furrowed his brows and inhaled deeply. His hands and feet tingled every time he did that.  
He just... had to remind himself that gravity was bullshit.  
He could do better than believing physics.  
Planes could fly. Why couldn’t he?  
And just like that, he felt weightless. Still with his eyes closed, he let himself go up and up. So far up that the sounds of the barn were left behind and the thunder reverberated like it came from all around him.

The boy felt himself blush with emotion and sighed loudly. He did it again, didn't he? He managed to control his flying. Opening his eyes, Clark's heart jumped in his chest. From so far above, Smallville looked strange and... small. The whole Main Street could be seen. Probably on a sunny day Clark would be able to see from Mr Hubbard's farm as far as to the hills. At that moment the rain was so thick that layers of gray hid the horizon like a curtain.

The 10 year old froze in the air, eyes wide when he finally saw the tornado. There it was. Dark, huge and loud. Every gray cloud over Clark's head seemed attracted towards the circular motion, darkening and turning into a scary cone. Lighting bolts mixed themselves with the tornado, following closely through the path. At school, his teacher had read him many poems that compared storms to mythical monsters. Titans with power for destruction. Now he understood why.

A little far behind, where the tornado had just passed through, fire. Something had been hit by a lighting, exactly the place he heard a screaming again.

Kent shook a little on the air, unstable, but after a few tries he managed to find a way to fly sideways and not just up or down. It wasn't that hard. He just needed to learn better. He still was very slow though, and the anxiety to reach the source of the scream made him lose focus on his powers. The rain seemed to get worse, making it harder to see through it, but he still kept going.

Clark wouldn't stop. He wouldn't live knowing someone had died when he could've done something to help.

***

"Alexander..."

The woman stood barefoot on the rain, hands on her chest. She didn't know what to do. When the lightning fell on her son's treehouse, her heart stopped, but, seeing the tree slowly tilting towards the ground made the woman fall on desperation. If Lex, who was inside, hadn't been killed by the bolt or the fire, the fall certainly would. All because of some stupid notebooks.

She muffled a scream with her hand when the trunk cracked audibly. "Mom" a small whine was heard from the inside of the burning treehouse. "LEX!" the woman shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks. And just like that the trunk broke in half. The wood structure tilted heavily and started plummeting to the ground. Lillian Luthor kneeled on the ground and covered her eyes, waiting for the horrible loud noise.

When she didn't hear it, however, the woman looked up anxiously. The treehouse was on the ground, as it should be, but there was no destruction and the fire was gone. Lillian frowned, eyes wide open in confusion. Was she insane? Did she miss something?

Even though the rain made things difficult to see, Lillian saw a little hand appear from under a branch. The next second, she was running. She ran so fast she was reaching for that tiny hand in the blink of an eye. From under there, Lex rose intact. He was still grabbing his backpack passionately and looked absolutely gobsmacked. The woman pulled the 14 year old boy towards her chest, crying and laughing at the same time. "My baby... My genius boy" she whispered above his ginger hair. For some reason he was really cold.

"Are you hurt from the fall?" She asked, analyzing him up and down.  
"I didn't fall. The treehouse sorta... floated to the ground..." Lex said dazedly, completely confused. Lillian hugger her son one last time before dragging him toward the cellar door again. Neither one seemed to have paid attention to the fact that Lex Luthor was covered in ice.

***

 

Clark was hugging a tree.  
When the 10 year old came to himself, he was over six meters up, arms and legs wrapped around the trunk of a tree near the Luthor's property. What the heck had happened?!

The boy saw this redhead woman crying and shouting in distress. Near her a whole tree burned to a crisp, including the well constructed treehouse built on top of it. The whole structure leaned dangerously to the side. Clark knew a kid was inside. How? He saw him. How? Not even Kent knew. He just... looked through the wood ceiling. Just like that. Similar to how he could see through people's bodies and see their organs. It wasn’t pleasant. However, watching the other boy shrink against the corner of the wall trying to avoid the growing fire made Clark's adrenaline spike up.

Everything happened so fast after that. Him grabbing the treehouse with his bare hands and lowering it to the ground. Him using his cold breath to put out the fire. Him flying away scared and latching onto the first tree he saw.

The 10 year old blinked a couple of times and let go of the trunk. Carefully, he got up on a branch and looked over to the Luthor's house, tip toeing so he could see better. Lillian and Lex weren't outside anymore. Big pieces had been torn from the house's structure, mainly the ceiling, and the garden was covered in debris and dirt, but Clark could see the family safe inside the cellar. They were fine. The tornado had passed through them already.

At that moment, what Kent worried about were the other people in the path of the tornado. He turned around and looked at the storm.

The boy stepped in the air tentatively. After noticing he wouldn't nosedive to the grass, he let himself levitate. It was so normal. Flying had become a lot easier to control after Clark allowed himself to try. His body knew what to do. It was an instinct the kid tried fiercely to suppress, like when he tried tying himself at night so he wouldn't wake up on the ceiling. Kent did a slow loop in the air testing his stability. He seemed to be doing alright.

Not that Clark was smarter than Isaac Newton, but if he could defy gravity, what other physical laws were also rubbish to him? The boy liked physics. He like chemistry and biology as well. All in all, science class was really cool for the boy (not like English class, but still…). Maybe one day he could show his teacher that, against her knowledge, it was possible to generate heat out of nothing, since he had burned too many things with his laser eyes. Maybe she could help him create an explanation for everything he could do. Just like she explain tornadoes to him so many times, and…

And…

That’s it, wasn’t it?!

They had studied so many meteorological phenomenons in school, but one of the most reviewed were the tornadoes. If you needed to sum up, they were just hot water, wind and pressure. What Smallville needed to get rid of the thing was a cool, stable flow of air or a dramatic change in pressure and, well, Clark could provide that. Or he could try.

Suddenly just floating in place wasn’t enough. He had to be much more talented than that. A wave of courage hit the 10 year old and he convinced himself to fly all the way to the vortex… but it was easier said than done. It would take him all night if he kept going as slow as he was, scared shitless. Even a tiny frog jumping on the ground was faster than him, so he sped up. Then more, and more, and more. The wind was slapping him in the face, but he kept going. Speeding and speeding. Soon Clark reached the huge wave of dust that surrounded the tornado, making his eyes tear up. After everything, he would have to hide his wet clothes before Ma Kent noticed the amount of dirt stuck to it. That would be hard to explain when he came back.

It wasn’t easy fighting against 135mph winds. The boy was starting to feel very weak. It had been less than an hour since the tornado formed, but it was already being the most eventful day in the 10 year old’s life, however, the energy spent was starting to be missed. Clark felt the wind dragging him like a strong current in the ocean. He tried hard to fight it but the most he was doing was preventing himself from being thrown away.

In a moment of desperation mixed with confidence, Clark inhaled so much air he thought he would burst and, all in one blow, he let everything out. Cool air instantly surrounded him, mixing itself with the flow of the vortex, but disappeared after a few seconds. The boy didn't know what he expected would happen. It wasn't enough.

Filling up his lungs again, he managed to actually feel his body chilling the air up before puffing all out on a cold wave. Clark noticed the tornado changed form a tiny bit because of it, but it still wasn't nearly enough to do anything else.

It was possible to see from above that the tornado was moving quicker. Even the lightings that seemed to be surrounding it would follow right behind. At one moment, though, a little trailer park started to appear behind the curtain of rain that hid the path. The place would be hit directly by the tornado. Desperation overtook Clark. Some trailers were starting to lift a little already. The boy could hear accelerated heartbeats somewhere in that direction. He had to do something quick! Clark was privileged to be able to do things like that (Privileged, huh. A week ago he would call himself cursed). If he is able to make a change in the life of those people, he will, but he couldn't be weak now!

With all the energy he still had, Clark fought against the current. The winds were dragging him in that circular motion, threatening to throw him away, but he kept pushing back. It wasn’t an easy feat. He finally stopped moving, feeling the dirt and water hit his face, making him cough. It surprised the boy to notice he was crying a little, because maybe he was in way over his head. What a stupid idea.

Pa Kent wasn’t a religious man, but he believed in some things. Sometimes he would make comments that wouldn’t make any sense to Clark until the right moment. Jonathan grabbed the 10 year old playfully one day and said to him “Boy, you blessed. I don’t know what it is, but for sure there’s a light following you”. Now he knew why Pa said that. Clark never imagined it would have such a literal example though:

While he wasted the last of his energy, the sky changed a little. Nothing new at first. Then this one spot of dark clouds started moving and soon some light was able to seep through. It was weird to see. There was heavy rain and gloom all around, but in this tiny place the sunlight escaped. The strangest part, however, was that the light and the warmth hit Kent directly in the face. “What the…” he said, scratching his eyes. He lost control a little and the vortex started dragging Clark, but he resisted again. The hole on the clouds got wider, spreading it’s light. It must be beautiful, the boy thought, to see this scene from afar. The storm, heavy raindrops, clear water, falling from the sky as if someone up there was pissed off. Maybe Zeus, because the lightnings were everywhere. Clark always had goosebumps when it was lightning season. In that storm, however, the electricity in the air was too much. The boy had never seen a lightning under the sunshine though. Beams hit the tornado making it even more imposing. The boy looked up, wet brown curls stuck to his forehead, wide blue eyes, and waited for a change.

Clark was used to laying on the grass under the morning sun. Nobody else did that, for some reason, and Kent couldn’t understand why not. It was peaceful. Even whilst napping he could feel the changes in his body. It was like taking a bath. The sunlight filtered through the boy's cells, taking away all the guilt, sadness and loneliness. He felt new. Purified. The sun was the only religion he truly had.

That's why Kent suddenly felt so full of vigor he thought he would bust. It didn't have to be make sense to him. Before he even realized, he was moving and the tornado was wobbling. Clark was flying as fast as a bullet against the movement of the vortex. A counterclockwise force in the middle of a clockwise storm. It didn't take long for the boy to actually make a difference, once the atmosphere became unstable with this intervention.

Energy built up inside him in a good way. It was nice feeling so alive. Clark allowed himself to shoot a few red laser beams in the air, laughing. That was stupid, he knew. If someone saw that, it would forever be one of Smallville's strange phenomenon stories, but he just felt so good...

The boy was winning and he knew. He inhaled as much as he could. Kent's chest was so wide he didn't know how he could store so much air inside, but that was good. He needed it. That would be Clark's last move. Continuing to fly in that addictive circular motion, he emptied his lungs out completely at once. All the cold air gone, huffed and puffed inside the big monster of wind. The air got so cold ice formed around the biggest pieces of debris in the air, giving the tornado a white and blue shine. Clark could have sworn the storm was completely silent for a few seconds.

The 10 year old couldn't help his imagination. In his mind the tornado would shriek in pain like a titan being slayed. He would throw lightnings around in anger and finally vanish, evaporating in the wind. However, it wasn't so cinematographic. The narrow end of the cone lost contact with the ground and started to shrink. Clark flew away a little, watching it from afar. Very slowly the cloud of dirt dissipated and, after a while, the tornado was gone.

The boy floated up high near the clouds, soaked to the bones and grinning like mad. He had fought a tornado!

*


	4. Relieved Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things will work out and you know it.

"Shawn, you lost! It was so awesome!" The 4 year old screamed, rolling around on his bed.  
"Andre, what you doing?! Get away from the window! You know better" The older brother started pulling the kid from his bed, that was next to the glass.  
"No, look!" Andre said, smiling.  
Shawn stopped for a few seconds "The tornado is gone?! I need to warn Mom"

"The tornado isn't gone, the flying jedi killed it"  
"The what?"  
"The flying jedi. He came out of nowhere and ripped the tornado with a red laser sword"  
"...A laser sword…"  
"Yes! He was, like, fighting it"  
"Andre, just… hold on. I'm gonna call Mom and Dad" The 16 year old left the room in a hurry.

"Wait!" The kid called from the bedroom "It's true. Come look, he's not gone!"  
The tiny four year old put his hands on the glass window, watching intently the small shape that was floating very up high near the clouds. It wasn't doing anything, just standing there, in the middle of the air.  
Andre knocked on the glass. "All Jedis can fly?! Hey, all Jedis can fly?!" The 4 year old screamed as if it could hear him from miles away. He kept repeating it whilst jumping on his bed.

BOOM! Suddenly a lightning bolt hit the flying jedi directly, and he plummeted to the ground.

"SHAWN!" He screamed, still jumping.  
"What?!" His older brother entered the room startled.  
"It's gone. The flying jedi with the red laser sword"  
"Oh, is it?" Asked Shawn in that playful tone people use with little kids.  
"Yeah, look"  
"You know, Andre, I think red laser swords are not from Jedis. They're from Siths"  
Andre stopped jumping on the bed and looked at his brother.  
"Siths?" He asked with huge brown eyes.  
"Yeah"  
"Oh, that's good then…"  
"What's good?"  
"Thor just threw a lightning at him"  
"He did?" Shawn asked while laughing. His brother was so little. He missed that age and having an imagination like that. "Tell me more about it" The 16 year old grabbed the kid and carried him outside the room.

***

Okay. That hurt.

Clark opened his eyes, slowly. The rain was weaker, soon it would stop. There was the smell of something burning (probably his clothes). The puddle of mud he fell on, however, was as wet and uncomfortable as someone would imagine it would be. However, if he moved his fingers he could still feel the electricity of the lightning inside of him, so it wouldn't hurt to stay there a little more. Thank God for his resistance.

"You're weird, Kent"

Clark shot up, sitting on his ass, the moment he heard the voice. A few meters away was Lana Lang. The girl had an umbrella, rain boots and a wide shit eating grin. Her red hair flew a little in the wind, contained by a small pink hat.  
"So. What you doing?" She asked, holding back a laugh.

The boy looked at himself. His coat was gone, half his shirt was burnt or burning, he was completely wet. There was dirt and mud stuck to his skin and he could feel what a mess his hair was. Not to say the fact that he was still on the floor in the rain, in the middle of nowhere.  
Clark didn't know what to say, so he just gave Lana a loopy smile.

The girl rolled her eyes, but returned his smile. She turned from him and continued walking down a path between some trees. After a while she stopped and asked "Are you coming or not?"

Clark stumbled a little trying to get up, but managed to go after the redhead who was already ahead.

***

“Honey, hold on” Jonathan jogged a little after his wife. She was nearly stomping on the ground. That basement was so big and full of corners she was tired of searching. People were already leaving. Families were returning the blankets that were given to them when they arrived and going up the stairs. Some people even parked their cars on the parking lot. Martha, however, was feeling anxious she couldn’t find Pete Ross’ family or Clark. She slept for too long and now they lost their boy.

“It’s fine, Martha. We didn’t lose him, he wouldn’t leave without us”  
“I’ll believe it when I see it, Jon” She said, turning around, passing through her husband without looking at him. He tried to hide the smile on his face. The woman was opening doors and windows, looking for the boy.  
“Come on, honey, there’s no reason for you to think that!”  
“I just know it, okay? I just feel it, and usually when I feel things like that” Martha opened a storage door “I’m ri…”

Sitting on the floor, cross legged, was Clark. The boy looked up with shining blue eyes. Martha’s voice got stuck on her throat and Jonathan smiled beside her. The 10 year old was completely covered with blankets, leaving only the top of his head and his hands outside, which held a comic book. Pa Kent took a small step backwards, because he could feel his wife about to explode. Calmly, she crouched to the boy’s level.

“I’m sorry, Ma” The kid said.  
“Sorry for what, baby?” She whispered.  
“You told me to go to the other storage room, but I was only able to reach this one”  
“That’s not a problem. Do you feel okay?”  
“I do. I just needed to get away for a while” For some reason, Jonathan noticed Clark blushed at those words.  
“Let’s go see how the animals are doing on the farm?”

The boy got up, still clinging to his blankets. Maybe if he kept them for a while his parents wouldn’t notice he was wearing different clothes. He was lucky Ma didn’t see the wet hair on the back of his head.

***

Clark eventually told his parents what he did. It was inevitable.  
There were a lot of things to explain, like why was Pancake in the barn with the other animals if he had been locked on the basement or where had the boy got that new shirt (Lana’s bother’s). Clark honestly didn’t feel bad confessing, because he hated keeping secrets. Jonathan almost had a heart attack when he heard the story. Martha just crossed her arms, thoroughly angry, and said “I knew it”. He was grounded for months, but, if the boy was being honest, it was totally worth it. He was better.

For the first time in a long time, he felt good. Maybe what he needed to do so he could learn how to control himself was to allow the powers in his life. He still wasn’t great. There were a lot of abilities he still would have to master, for once, but that was fine.

Jonathan would never admit that, but he missed working. It made the farmer happy to know he had such a responsible son, but seeing the farm being taken care of without his help was annoying on a different level. Saving the plantation from the damage it had received from the storm wasn’t easy. There was too much that needed to be redone, much to Clark’s anguish, but Jonathan didn’t seem bothered or annoyed or stressed. He had prepared. After that huge storm that made him lose his older brother, the experienced farmer always kept a card up his sleeve (in this case, an emergency fund). The rest of the maintenance was done gladly by a cheerful Pa Kent.

The boy went back to school. Pete Ross, who had been travelling when the tornado hit Smallville, was the first one to know about everything that happened (of course, omitting the whole flying, laser, ice, super strength part). Lana Lang never told anyone about that day. About finding Kent on her family’s land, looking like he was chewed and spit back out. That never stopped her from teasing Clark though, who was just happy he made a new friend (even though he wouldn’t complain if she wanted to be more than friends).

School wasn’t perfect, of course. The bullies, the rumors, people calling him names thinking he couldn’t hear. Things didn’t change just because he was away for a while, but now he didn’t have doubts. He had confidence in himself, on his friends and on his family.

The little secret he still had, however, was harmless. A guilty pleasure. After Ma and Pa went to bed, Clark would go up the roof, sit down and just… float. Going up, and up, and up. Sounded foolish if the 10 year old really thought about it, but to him, that was almost therapeutic. He just had to remind himself that he couldn’t relax and sleep up there (that would cause trouble). It’s just that… seeing Smallville all at once, illuminated by the full moon and dark blue skies, yellow lights from inside the houses… 

Clark knew he belonged.

THE END  
*


	5. Epilogue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I couldn't stop myself. Some Superbat was needed in this story.

Clark didn’t like Brad Wilson, but he had to admit he liked his car. Kent was 14, Lana was 15, but Brad was 16 and already had a Dodge. Everything about the guy was a jock stereotype, but what pissed Kent off was that Lana fell for it. However, when the girl offered him a ride home after his Journalism Club, Clark accepted even if he had to hear Brad’s brainless conversation and teasing. He just loved that Dodge.

It was a nice afternoon, he thought, putting his head close to the open window. The sun was setting, making everything orange, purple, blue and a bit chilly. Brad and Lana talked on the front seat of the car, ignoring his presence, so he just enjoyed the view and comfortable leather seats. He wasn't as bothered as he thought he would be. Lately, Clark had been in a good mood.

There was something ahead on the side of the road. Clark straightened up, trying to see. It was a boy, probably his age. There weren’t many new faces on Freshman year, so he knew that boy wasn’t from around Smallville. He had a large backpack, dirty boots and a black jacket. When he raised his hand, asking for a ride, Clark shouted “Stop for him!”, surprising even himself.

Lana Lang jumped, startled.  
“Why? We don’t know him!” She said.  
“So what? It’s getting too dark to be outside” The 14 year old answered, coming up quickly with an excuse.  
“What if the guy is, I don't know... wanted by the police?”  
“Oh, I personally think it’s a great idea” Said Brad stopping the car a few feet away from the hitchhiker. “He’s gonna sit right next to Kent. Let him deal with the guy.” He added, shit eating grin on his face.

Whilst the boy reached the car, Lana whispered angrily to Clark “Kent, I hope, for the sake of your ass, that the hitchhiker doesn’t have a knife”. He smiled.

Clark wasn’t wrong, the boy didn’t look a day over 14. He leaned a little on the window and Brad asked, amused “Where are you going?”  
“South. Trying to reach the highway” The boy answered calmly.  
“I can’t take you far, but come in”  
The door unlocked and the boy entered the car, sitting next to Clark, who finally got to see his face. He was rough. His milk white skin had some red shade to it, as if the hitchhiker stayed under the sun too much. The straight raven hair was full of dirt, but the clear blue eyes were witty and alert. Those eyes. Clark felt something inside. He blushed when he realized he had butterflies in his stomach, and immediately suppressed the feeling.

Sometimes Kent wished he could be true to himself. Show who he was inside. He would use his powers without fear, do good. He wouldn't hide how strong he was. Clark liked his thick glasses (believe it or not), but since he didn't need them, they would be gone. He would stand up straight and would talk to people with confidence in his voice. He would have courage to tell the boy next to him that he was making Clark question his heterossexuality.

“What’s your name?” Lana asked.  
“Bruce”  
“Where are ya from, Bruce?"  
"Around"  
"Around? Did you run away from your parents or something?" Brad asked while laughing.  
"Or something" He answered drily.

"Oh, c'mon. Where are ya from?" Lana insisted.  
Bruce looked at the redhead, who smiled widely, and answered a short "Gotham".  
That seemed to light a fire under the girl's ass, who smiled at Clark. She loved reading about Gotham and Metropolis and Clark understood why. He never thought Lana belonged in a small city.

"Someone like you walking around some empty highways... Must be dangerous" Brad teased.  
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "He means dangerous for you" completed Lana, pinching her boyfriend subtly.  
"Sometimes. I know how to deal with problems like that" Bruce said and looked at Clark, who immediately turned to the other way, pretending he hadn't been staring.

After a while Clark and Lana shared a quick look. The boy reached for his own glasses and subtly pulled them down. Looking over them, he was able to search around - Kent learned a long time ago that using his powers wasn't cheating. Bruce had two knives on his boots and another one on his waist, but they were probably there for defense, not attack (or Clark wanted to believe). His hands, that were hid in his coat pockets, were covered in bruises. The kid clearly didn't let his guard down, smart eyes always focused on some movement. His heartbeat was strong, but a little fast. Kent didn't know what, but it was obvious that the wanderer had been through tough things. When Bruce's eyes locked again on Clark's, the boy in glasses smiled sheepishly, trying to convey an "I understand" into it. Surprisingly, the lines around Bruce's eyes softened, as if he had understood the message. Kent watched as the other boy turned his face to the window and relaxed a little. When was the last time he really slept? Really really slept.

When Clark found out his parent’s secret, it was like a weight was taken from his shoulders. He knew they hadn’t kept is as cruelty. Not even close. He understood why someone would avoid telling their adopted child that he was actually from Krypton, an strange planet that no longer existed. You could say Clark went through some tough times after that. In the end, however, the boy was grateful for that knowledge.

“Hey, Bruce. Do you like The Doors?” Brad barked, putting Riders on the Storm on the radio. Everyone else seemed a little annoyed at the loud music, but the jock was too amused at the “There’s a killer on the road” line to care. Bruce honestly just looked unimpressed and went back to watching the road.

It didn't take long for Brad to get bored. When he understood that Bruce wouldn't give him the attention he needed, his interest decreased significantly. After 10 minutes of driving with no talking, he stopped on this huge gas station full of trucks. The bright fluorescent lights hurt the eyes and a strong smell of gasoline was everywhere. Lana looked around confused.

"I need to pee. You can find another ride here. Lots of nice sweaty truck drivers" Brad said nonchalantly while getting out. Clark always wanted the best for his best friend, but seeing Lana's dumbstruck face every time Brad acted like an asshole always made him thoroughly satisfied. She pursed her lips as she watched the jock enter the convenience store. It surprised Kent, however, when the car door on the other side banged closed and he saw Bruce already leaving.

In the blink of an eye, Clark was holding the hitchhiker's arm. It was instinctive. He could say the superspeed just kicked in. Noticing his mistake though, he looked back at the car, but Lana was too distracted by Brad to notice the sudden disappearance. Turning back, Kent met Bruce's scrutinizing icy blue eyes. He was too young for this. Clark himself was to young for most things, but he never considered that there were plenty 14 year olds all by themselves at night. He couldn’t say if Bruce wanted to be where he was, but… he was too young. When the silent started to become awkward, Kent took his wool scarf off his shoulders (the one Ma Kent had given him at Christmas).

"Here" he said, putting it on Bruce's "The road gets cold in the night. I don't need it, I'm always warm". That was true. Kryptonian physiology, probably.

He didn't know what he was doing, but he felt the need to do something nice. He didn't expect Bruce would lean in and give a soft peck on Clark's lips. The wanderer then adjusted his backpack and walked away, ready to find another ride. Kent's brain, however, was mush for many seconds. It took a while for him to process Lana's laughter from inside the car.

Oh, wow (Oh, Rao) That was something, wasn’t it?  
Clark turned towards the car, glasses crooked on his nose, face completely red, smiling like a madman. Lana laughed harder, clapping her hands. He didn’t mind. Bruce had spent less than 20 minutes in the car and had managed to make Clark’s day. Those were some blue eyes that would be very hard to forget.

*


End file.
